


Not Going to End Well

by abstractSilver (Starlightstiel)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Coming Untouched, Godstiel: Castiel as God, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Master/Pet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:25:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1207678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlightstiel/pseuds/abstractSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the kink meme: http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/79365.html?thread=29243397t29243397</p><p>"Castiel has always wanted Dean, but he's never acted on his desires. And now that he's essentially God? Well, he can have pretty much whatever he wants. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Going to End Well

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Graphic rape and dehumanization (Cas pretty much treats Dean like a pet)
> 
> UPDATE: I actually left out a chunk of this story on accident, so if anyone read it before and it didn't make sense, I apologize. It has been fixed now.

Dean knew his story was never going to end well. He expected to die bloody; maybe have his throat ripped out by some vampire. Perhaps a werewolf would eat his heart. He was right about things not ending well, but he would never have guessed that the end would come at the hands of one of the only people left on this earth he considered family.

Castiel (if the thing in front of him could even be _called_ Castiel anymore) stared unblinkingly at him. His expression was neutral on the surface, but there was a layer of wrong beneath the placid exterior that made Dean's heart freeze. To his side, his brother wheezed and writhed on the floor in obvious agony. The pain of his broken wall had finally become too much. He was vaguely away of Bobby kneeling hesitantly, trying in vain to appease the angry creature- the angry _god_ before them. 

“Fix him.” Dean finally managed to growl out, surprised by the ferocity behind his words. He heard Bobby hiss a warning at him, but he ignored it. If he couldn't get Castiel to fix Sam now, he wasn't going to be able to get him to do it later. 

Castiel didn't seem perturbed by Dean's aggressive tone. If anything, his stony expression almost seemed to lighten into some cruel mockery of amusement. Dean felt his resolve crumble. He knew his words were falling on deaf ears. 

“Dean!” Bobby whispered urgently, trying to catch the hunter's attention. Dean knew what Bobby wanted him to do. He wanted him to kneel and submit; roll over and play dead for this self-proclaimed deity wearing his best friend's skin. 

“You would do well to listen to him, Dean.” Castiel said, tilting his head to the side as he observed the two of them. “Resistance will only cause you to suffer.” 

“Fix Sam, and I'll suffer all you want me to.” Dean shot back, which earned him a shocked gasp from Bobby. Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean's words, obviously displeased by them. Dean gulped nervously and fought the sudden urge to step back from that piercing gaze.

“I'm not going to fix your brother, Dean.” Castiel replied coldly. The pure finality in his words was enough to make Dean weep, but he couldn't give up on Sam. Speaking of Sam, his brother had gone almost completely still. His limbs twitched sporadically and his breathing was labored and uneven. Dean had seen death enough times to know that Sam was incredibly close to it. If he didn't change Castiel's mind soon, he wasn't going to get another chance. 

“Cas, come on man. This is Sam.” Dean begged, all of the venom gone from his voice. 

“Sam stabbed me in the back. I owe him nothing.” The former angel replied icily. Dean shuddered at the cruelty, another stark reminder that this wasn't his Cas. “I am your god now, and you will treat me with the **respect** that I deserve.”

Dean barely managed to keep himself from crying out as he suddenly felt his legs give out from underneath him, forcing him to the ground in a pathetic mimic of Bobby's kneel. He was almost face to face with Sam's quivering form now, and he reached his hand out hesitantly to try and comfort his hurting brother. “Cas-” Dean whispered brokenly, pleadingly. He could barely contain a sob when he saw his baby brother's pale face twisted in anguish. “Please. I'll- I'll do anything. I swear. Anything you want.”

“Dean!” Bobby hissed again, obviously appalled at what was coming out of the hunter's mouth. Dean shot him an apologetic glance, shame beginning to burn as he realized that he was giving in so easily. He had to do this though.

Dean was surprised to see that Castiel actually looked interested, even if only slightly. Something in the ex-angel's eyes looked dark though... hungry. Dean felt a shudder run down his spine, but he forced himself to hold his gaze. He took a moment to try and calm his pounding heart, then repeated his claim as levelly as he could manage. “Anything.”

The new god actually seemed to be considering it, if the way his eyes kept darting between Dean and his incapacitated brother were any indication. Bobby was motioning frantically to Dean, probably trying to get him to retract his offer while he still had a chance. Well, there was no way that was going to happen. The old drunk was just going to have to deal with it. 

“...If I heal him-” Dean opened his mouth to start pleading again, but the look the former angel shot him was enough to make the words die on his tongue before he could utter an interruption. Castiel began again. “If I heal him, he will still need to be punished severely for his crimes against me.”

“What kind of punishment?” Dean questioned, mouth going dry with dread.

“That is not your concern, Dean.” Castiel replied. “Do you want me to heal him or not?”

“Dean, _no_.” Bobby urged, grabbing Dean's sleeve tightly and trying to pull the hunter toward him and away from the self-proclaimed god. “Dammit, this isn't what Sam would have wanted. He wouldn't want you to-”

Dean shook the older hunter off his arm roughly before he could finish. His heart ached at the way that Bobby was looking at him, but he had to save Sam. “Cas, please, heal him.”

Castiel allowed himself to smile at Dean's response, never tearing his eyes away from the hunter. Dean held his breath as the moments ticked by, wondering if the former angel had decided that anything Dean had to offer was too inconsequential to make work anyways. He was about to ask again, maybe throw some tears in even though he was pretty sure that Castiel could care less about his feelings right now.

Next to him, Sam began to cough and splutter, his breath quickening and his eyes shooting open. Immediately, Dean was at his side. “Sam?” He could hardly believe it. His brother was looking up at him in confusion, but the agony that had previously clouded his features was nowhere in sight. “..Dean? Bobby? What-”

“Say your goodbyes, Dean. You won't be seeing your brother again.” Castiel interjected plainly. Dean's eyes widened as he gripped Sam's shoulders more tightly.

“Listen- Cas. Come on. Sammy's still pretty shook up. I know you said said you needed to 'punish' him or some crap, but can't it wait-”

“It cannot wait.” Castiel replied dryly, a small frown beginning to work its way onto his face. Dean had obviously said something to piss him off. Well, some things never changed. “You swore yourself to me, Dean.”

“Huh?” Dean questioned after a moment of stunned silence, mind churning with what Castiel had just said. “Dude, I said I would do you a favor. I didn't-”

“You said _anything_ Dean.” Castiel scolded, his features darkening even more. The air in the room seemed to thicken exponentially, and Dean scooted himself closer to his brother and Bobby. He hoped Cas wasn't implying what Dean thought he was. “We had a deal. You don't get to back out now.”

“Dean, what's going on?” Sam asked, looking between Castiel and his brother with confusion and fear. “What is he talking about?”

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but he immediately felt an all too familiar lurch as Sam's face faded from view and was replaced by an unfamiliar room. Dean was glad for the fact he was still crouched on the ground, or he was sure he would have fallen over in his disorientation. Castiel stood next to him and stared down at with an unreadable expression. Dean gulped and slowly pulled himself to his feet. “Come on Cas, you could warn a guy next time.”

“Stay here.” Castiel warned, then immediately disappeared again.

“Wait!” Dean called out, but it was too late. Cas was gone, and he was stuck god-knows-where for god-knows-how long. He sighed, taking stock of his surroundings. The room Cas deposited him was nicer than any motel him and Sam had stayed at in their lives. From the looks of it, this place would have cost more a night than they could probably make from hustling pool in a month.

Dean walked around the perimeter of the room, taking everything in. One of the first things he noticed was that there was a distinct lack of a door or windows, pretty much rendering Castiel's warning not to leave a moot point. The whole thing, from the gaudy décor to the lack of any visible exit, reminded Dean way too much of the green room for his liking. And what the hell was Cas doing, anyways? Why did he have to zap Dean to some glorified holding cell when he could have just left him with Sam and Bobby until he was ready to ask Dean for what he wanted in return for healing his brother?

After a while, Dean's anxiety began to fade into boredom. Whatever Cas was doing, it was taking forever. There was no TV in this place either. He wandered over to the ornate bookshelf in the corner of the room and began idly looking through the volumes. Despite what Sam and Bobby thought, Dean actually did enjoy reading. It was just unfortunate that he had no idea what language these were in, because it sure as hell wasn't English.

He eyed large bed on the other end of the room with longing. His adrenaline from the confrontation with Raphael and Castiel's subsequent power grab was beginning to wear off, and he felt a bone deep fatigue blossom within him. He looked down at his watch for the first time since coming here, shocked to see that it was nearly four in the morning. Castiel had been gone for hours. He looked back at the bed, worrying his lip with indecision. Castiel had seemed somewhat irritated with him when he left, and he didn't want to piss off the former angel anymore by being asleep when he came back. On the other hand, maybe Cas had put him into a room with a bed for a reason. It wasn't like he had given Dean any instruction other than to not leave.  


Dean finally made up his mind, and shucked his jacket off as he made his way toward the extremely comfortable looking bed. He didn't bother to remove any of his other clothing, and despite his longing to bury himself under those plush looking blankets, he settled for laying on top of the bedding. 

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep. This bed was more comfortable than any he could remember sleeping on. Most of the beds in the motels he usually slept in felt like concrete slabs covered in scratchy fabric.

Dean slept extremely well, and when he opened his eyes slowly upon waking, he couldn't restrain the extremely humiliating yelp that made its way out of his mouth upon seeing the former angel practically looming over the bed and staring intently at him. 

“Dammit Cas...” He groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes while trying to stifle a yawn. “How long have you been standing there?” 

Castiel didn't respond, merely looked him up and down slowly. He let his eyes then trail over to Dean's discarded jacket that had been thrown haphazardly in the middle of the floor. Dean felt a small twinge of embarrassment for some reason, and quickly scrambled out of bed to scoop up the offending piece of clothing. “So are you finally going to tell me what you want?” 

“I brought you sustenance. Humans require food to survive.” He replied, as though Dean wasn't aware of that fact. Dean rolled his eyes and reached for the brown sack that was sitting on the glass coffee table. 

“No, Dean.” Castiel warned, and Dean immediately faltered. He felt a flush of rage at Castiel's tone. The former angel was reprimanding him like some dog. He was _starving_. He hadn't eaten in at least twenty-four hours, and his stomach was beginning to ache with emptiness. 

“What?” He gulped, forcing himself to stop as he resisted glaring at the god. So far Castiel didn't seem like he was going to smite him, but after what he had seen with Raphael he didn't want to push him.

“You're filthy. I will not have you in my presence in such a state. You should have washed yourself before you slept.” Castiel replied, displeasure still obvious in his tone. Dean may not have had much sense of self-preservation, but he knew not to push it right now. 

“Okay, sorry.” He said, trying his best to sound repentant as he lifted his hands in a placating gesture. He wasn't sure what Cas' problem was. Sure, he was covered in sweat and dirt from the whole fiasco from yesterday, but why the hell would Cas care about that. “I'll take a shower after I eat. Happy?”

Castiel looked pretty far from happy, and when Dean went to reach for the bag again it disappeared before he could grab it. “Dammit Cas!” 

“You'll bathe now Dean, and if you clean yourself to my satisfaction and refrain from being so wildly disrespectful, maybe I'll let you eat dinner.” The angel replied calmly, not phased in the least by Dean's obvious distress. 

Dean felt a million comebacks on his tongue. Cas was going to starve him if he made him wait that long. He knew that resistance would probably only end up in more withheld meals though, so he reluctantly nodded. “Can I do that now, Master? Or would you like me to wash your feat first?” He grumbled, not able to completely stop from making a sarcastic comeback. Castiel didn't seem to notice, or didn't care, because he vanished almost immediately. 

Dean stood there for a few minutes, still in shock that Cas had refused to give him the food he brought specifically for him. The former angel really was on one hell of a power trip. He grumbled the entire way to the bathroom, fumbling out of his clothes and throwing them in the general direction of the counter. 

The water pressure was excellent, which Dean was thankful for, and he stood under the warm jets for way longer than necessary. When he was finally satisfied that there wasn't a speck of dirt left on him, even going as far as to scrub underneath his nails and toenails repeatedly, he exited the shower and grabbed the towel hanging nearby. The damn thing felt like some kind of fluffy cloud, and he used it to dry himself thoroughly.

This was where Dean ran into an interesting dilemma. One look at his grimy clothes told him that Cas would be beyond pissed if he got back into them. But then what was he supposed to wear? The god hadn't exactly left him another pair. What, did he want him to walk around naked or something? Dean's face reddened at the thought and he immediately dismissed it. 

“Fuck.” He grumbled, looking through drawers for something, _anything_ he could use to cover himself that wasn't a towel. Eventually he found plush bathrobe, made from the same material as the towel, at the bottom of one of the drawers. It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do. 

He tossed the towel into the hamper and shimmied into the robe, tying it shut so that it was as unrevealing as possible. He would sell his soul right now for a pair of clean boxers. The thing barely touched his thighs, and he felt _way_ too exposed underneath it for his own comfort.

After making sure that his old clothes were folded neatly on the counter (he had no idea where else he was supposed to put them), he opened the door cautiously and went back into the main room. Cas was still nowhere in sight. He made his way over to the couch, sitting on it gingerly and making sure to pull the robe down as he did so it covered everything important. He had no idea how long Cas was going to be gone, but he was so hungry he couldn't really bring himself to do anything but sit there and stare at the damn wall. Couldn't he have been trapped somewhere with a damn TV?

Castiel did return eventually, but it was several hours later. He didn't have any food with him this time, at least not that Dean could see, and the hunter felt his heart drop and his stomach give another displeased growl. The god tilted his head to the side as he slowly looked Dean over, top to bottom. Dean shifted nervously and pulled down at the edges of the robe again. He felt _way_ too exposed under Castiel's scrutinizing gaze.

“You did well.” The former angel offered as a greeting. Dean just gulped and nodded, hoping Cas would either feed him or just tell him what the hell he wanted so he could leave and get something himself.

Castiel didn't respond immediately, he just continued to stare intently at Dean. The silence that suddenly fell between them felt incredibly awkward to the hunter. He coughed nervously, then looked up at Castiel as he struggled to find something to say. “So... What have you been doing this whole time?”

“Punishing my enemies.” He replied without missing a beat, causing Dean to wince. The hunter suddenly remembered something, and felt a bit of a panic flood him.

“Wait, you said you were going to punish Sam too. You- you haven't-”

“Sam is fine.” Castiel replied, sounding almost annoyed. Dean wanted to ask more about his brother, but figured that pushing the issue probably wasn't the best idea right now. 

“Okay.” Dean tried his best to sound nonchalant, leaning back on the couch. Castiel continued to stare at him in a way that made him extremely nervous for some reason, but he shrugged it off. “So-”

“You're hungry.” Castiel cut him off, fixing Dean's stomach with a stern glare as it made a strange gurgling noise that had Dean covering it with his arms in embarrassment. 

“Yeah, Cas. A bit.” He huffed, unable to keep all of the exasperation out of his voice. Castiel seemed to be considering something for a moment, and Dean hoped that whatever it was involved letting him get the hell out of here and back to Bobby and Sam.

“Eat.” Castiel said, and Dean jumped slightly as a small box materialized on the table before him. He looked up at the former angel hesitantly. He didn't want to do something to upset Castiel and have his meal yanked away again. When he received a small nod from the god, he carefully opened the top of the box and pulled out its contents. 

“Seriously?” Dean wasn't quite able to keep the disappointment out of his voice as he looked down at the sandwich. It was pretty big, but stuffed with all kinds of green things Dean did not care for _at all_. “Guess the burger joint was closed?” 

Castiel did not look amused at Dean's attempt at a joke, and the hunter's smile faltered. Well, at least it was food. He forced himself to take a large bite. He was surprised that it actually wasn't bad, but he would definitely have preferred the burger. Extra greasy.

“Your body is mine now. I won't allow you to fill it with junk.”

Dean nearly spit out the food that was half-chewed in his mouth at Castiel's words. “Wha-” It took him a few moments to finish chewing, and he nearly choked in his hurry to swallow so he could adequately express his concern at the god's word choice. “I'm not, I mean-” Dean had absolutely no idea what to say in response to Castiel's statement. “Cas. What the hell man?”

“Finish your meal, Dean.” Castiel urged, and Dean was pretty sure the bastard was ignoring his question on purpose. The hunter grumbled a bit to make sure the god knew how unhappy he was before he turned back to the sandwich. His appetite was pretty much gone now, but he wasn't sure when the next meal was going to be so he forced himself to eat as much of the sandwich as he could manage while his entire stomach was twisted into knots from anxiety.

“Thanks for the food Cas, but I think I want to leave now.” Dean forced his voice to stay steady as he put the rest of the sandwich back into the box and forced himself to his feet. The former angel's brow furrowed in confusion as he stared the hunter. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean... how long are you going to keep me in here, Cas?” The hunter whispered, his voice finally beginning to crack with the panic that was twisted up in his chest. 

Castiel smiled reassuringly at Dean, although it was definitely not having the intended effect. Dean just felt the unease in him slowly boil over into panic, even as the god reached forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Dean tried to keep himself from shaking. 

“I knew this would be difficult for you at first.” Castiel muttered, more to himself than to the hunter in front of him. Dean was struggling to understand his words. 

“You knew _what_ would be difficult for me?” Dean replied. He wasn't even trying to keep the dread out of his voice now. Castiel let his hand slowly trail from the hunter's shoulder down to where the belt of the robe was knotted around his middle. As much as he tried, Dean couldn't keep the whimper out of his voice as the god tugged him closer.

“Dean, relax. I can make this good for you.” Castiel whispered against his ear, and Dean felt his entire body shudder as he began to catch on to exactly what Castiel wanted from him.

“Cas, please.” Dean whimpered, his voice barely audible. Castiel just shushed him and began to slowly untie the robe. Dean tried to stay quiet, but once the former angel had finished untying the robe and pulling it open to stare shamelessly at Dean's naked body, the hunter jerked away from him and let out a hiss of protest.

Castiel didn't respond to Dean's obvious displeasure, choosing instead to run his palm over the human's now naked chest and letting it rest over his heart. Dean wanted to shove him away. He wanted to fight and scream until he found some way, _any_ way out of this horrible situation. For some reason though, he couldn't get his body to respond to what his brain was planning. He felt... tired. Sluggish. His limbs were infinitely heavy and he could hardly muster the strength to shove pathetically at the god's shoulders as the latter pushed his robe off completely. There was really no mistaking Castiel's intent now. 

His mind was so foggy that Dean didn't even remember how he made it to the bed, but before he knew it he was falling back onto the plush comforter with an extremely naked ex-angel positioned over him. It took him a moment to realize that Castiel was pressing soft kisses into his neck, and the out-of-place gentleness in the midst of such a horrific act made him want to vomit. If it weren't for whatever mind-whammy the god had put on him, he probably would have.

Eventually Castiel decided that there was more of Dean he wanted to explore, and he slowly worked down the hunter's body, occasionally dropping a kiss against his trembling form. Without any warning, the god swallowed him down completely and, even through the thick fog swirling around his mind, Dean gasped in shock. Castiel didn't seem to mind that Dean's cock was not responding to the situation, he just sucked and licked at the flaccid member as though it were the most interesting thing in the room right now. 

Castiel lacked finesse, but the stimulation was enough to cause Dean's dick to begin showing interest. Dean tried his hardest to will his erection down, feeling a deep disgust with himself for becoming aroused, but he was finding it difficult to concentrate even without the former angel sucking on him like a vacuum. 

“Beautiful...” Castiel muttered as he crawled back up to claim Dean's mouth in a rough kiss. Dean tried to turn his head away, but Castiel was having none of that. He gave Dean's lip a warning bite, and the hunter whimpered into his mouth as he grudgingly forced himself to stop struggling.

Castiel hummed his approval and cupped Dean's cheek affectionately as he pulled away. Dean gulped in anticipation as Castiel sat up. Maybe the god was satisfied now and would let him go? 

Dean felt his heart drop into his stomach as the former angel forced the hunter onto his stomach. “Cas- please.” He miraculously managed to sob, breaking through the fog in his mind momentarily. God knows he had thought about it before, but if it was going to happen between them he didn't want it to be like this. “Not like this Cas. Please-”

“You belong to me now.” Castiel whispered gently as he pushed a slick finger against the hunter's entrance. “This will be more pleasant for you if you don't resist.”

Despite Castiel's warning, Dean tried to struggle away from the cold finger working its way inside of him. It was to no avail though. He couldn't possibly overpower a god. He was an ant compared to the creature working him slowly open. Hot tears burned in his eyes as he buried his head into the pillow, trying to stifle the soft hiccuped sobs that came unbidden out of his throat. Castiel either didn't notice his tears or didn't care, because he continued his ministrations without hesitation.

When Castiel seemed to be satisfied with his preparation, he draped himself over the hunter's back and pressed a deceptively affectionate kiss against the back of his neck. Dean shuddered at the affection and choked on another sob as he buried his face more deeply into the pillow. Castiel gripped his hips gently but firmly and began to press himself into the hunter. 

Dean cried out at the unfamiliar intrusion. Castiel had prepared him enough that it didn't _hurt_ , but it felt strange and uncomfortable and he didn't like it at all. The god gave him a moment to adjust once he was fully sheathed, and Dean took that time to try and force his mind somewhere else. Anywhere else.

When Castiel started to move, Dean couldn't pretend anymore. The former angel went slow, tortuously slow. Dean would have given anything for him to just hurry up and finish. The hunter's dick had gone limp again, but occasionally the god would brush a spot deep inside of him that caused it to twitch with interest. He felt like gagging. The unbidden pleasure that rushed through his body every time Castiel managed to brush against it was vile. Dean hated his body for enjoying any part of this.

“Dean...” Castiel gasped softly, his grip tightening painfully against Dean's sides as he continued to thrust into the hunter. Dean didn't respond, just squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for it to be over. Castiel shifted slightly as he began to go faster, and Dean let out an unintentional moan as the new position allowed the god to hit that spot on almost every thrust. His cock was painfully hard now, dripping copious amounts of precome onto the bedding below.

Dean felt his balls tightening, and he bit his lip so hard it bled as he tried to force his body not to orgasm. His cock bounced hard and red against his belly as his prostate was stimulated repeatedly, and he shoved his face back into the pillow, crying out loudly as he came untouched.

Castiel continued to pound into him now, much more roughly than before. The constant post-orgasm stimulation to his prostate had Dean whimpering in agony. He felt a deep shame flood him. How could he have allowed himself to come from that? The damn god hadn't even _touched_ his cock, yet he had been moaning like a whore just from having a dick shoved up his ass. A fresh wave of tears welled up in his eyes as he once again buried his head into the pillow and begged silently for Castiel to finish.

Castiel did finish eventually, although it felt like an eternity to Dean as he sobbed quietly for his shattered dignity. The hot rush of liquid deep inside of him sent another wave of nausea through the hunter, but he choked it down and squeezed his eyes shut while Castiel pulled out with a contented sigh.

The former angel pressed another gentle kiss against the base of Dean's spine, then carefully rolled him over so he was on his back and looking up at Castiel. Dean knew how awful he probably looked; eyes puffy from crying, snot running down his face and lip bloody from how hard he had been biting it. Castiel just smiled serenely at him however, stroking the hunter's sides with a tenderness that Dean wanted more than anything to escape from.

“C-Can I go now” Dean whispered, not even trying to hide how broken he felt as his voice cracked pathetically. This must have been what Castiel wanted in exchange for healing Sam.

“Oh Dean...” Castiel frowned sympathetically at the hunter, his soothing strokes stopping. “You're not going anywhere.”

Dean hoped Castiel would leave to go do whatever the hell a god did in his free time, but the former angel seemed to feel obligated to stay behind until the hunter's body stopped shaking and his eyes finally stopped leaking tears. He whispered little praises into Dean's ear, things like _good boy_ , and _you did so well_. Dean wasn't sure how to tell Castiel that he was making the whole thing worse without risking a smiting, so he kept quiet except for the occasional hiccuped sob.

Castiel did eventually leave once Dean managed to pull himself together. He said something about having more work to do, but that he would return as soon as he could. Dean sincerely hoped that whatever it was he had to do took a _very_ long time.

As soon as the god vanished, Dean rushed to the shower and turned the water up to the highest heat setting it would go. It was scalding, and left his skin an angry red color, but he didn't care. He wanted to burn away any evidence of what had just transpired between the two of them.

Dean washed himself obsessively as the hot water poured down on him, leaving his skin raw, dry and aching. Eventually he got out and toweled himself dry. He was surprised to find another robe folded neatly on the counter in exactly the spot where his old clothes had been. There was no trace of the previous garments anywhere. He himself to take deep breaths as he hesitantly put the new robe on. Images of having it stripped off of him again had him gripping the edge of the counter so tightly his knuckles turned white. He had to find a way out of here. 

Once he managed to calm down, he tried to come up with a plan. A quick peak into the main room told him that Castiel was still gone, but he had no idea for how much longer. He needed to work fast. Sam and Bobby were probably out of their minds with worry at this point.

Dean sat on the counter in the bathroom and leaned back against the wall as he wracked his brain for ideas. The angel blade hadn't worked, so did that mean he wasn't an angel anymore? He hoped that Castiel retained enough of his angelic nature to at least be affected by a banishing sigil. It was really the only weapon he had in his arsenal right now. That would hopefully give him enough time to find a way out.

With a rudimentary plan now in place, Dean began searching the bathroom for something he could to implement it. His clothing had vanished, which meant his pocketknives were gone. There was a disposable razor in front of the mirror next to a can of shaving cream and some weird scented body lotion that Dean wouldn't use in a million years.

He picked up the razor and examined it for a moment. It was going to have to do. The shell was plastic, so it wouldn't be too difficult to get what he needed out of it. After a cursory glance around the room, he grabbed the large bottle of lotion and hit it against the razor as hard as he could.

It took a couple of smacks, but eventually a crack appeared in the plastic that was large enough for him to pry out the small razor within. He put it in the pocket of the bathrobe and peeked his head out into the main room one more time, just to be sure. Still no sign of Castiel. 

“Here goes nothing...” He muttered to himself while taking the razor out of his robe. He pressed it carefully to the skin of his forearm, surprised at how easily it sunk into the flesh, and a healthy amount of red blood blossomed around the mark as he drew the razor up towards his elbow. 

He knew he needed to work quickly before the blood began to clot and scab, so he went straight to work dipping his the fingers from his uninjured arm into the blood and using them to paint the sigil on the back of the door in broad strokes. If Castiel came back now, before he had a chance to finish, he had no idea how he was going to explain this away. 

Dean had barely finished the last symbol on the sigil when he heard the telltale flutter of wings in the main room that announced Castiel's return. He felt himself start to panic as he grabbed a hand-towel and wrapped it around his still bleeding arm. This was the moment of truth... If this didn't work, or he couldn't figure out how to get out before Castiel came back, he would be at the mercy of a pissed off god. Then again, even if the former angel did decide to smite him or snap his fingers and blow him into a million pieces, it couldn't be any worse than having to go through that again. 

Dean opened the door slowly, mustering all the courage he had inside of him just to peek his head out. Castiel immediately turned toward him, a fond smile on his face. Dean felt angry and hurt that he didn't look remorseful in the slightest over what he had subjected him to just hours ago. He tightened his grip on the handle, forcing himself to focus. Castiel was here, and if he didn't pull this off he wouldn't get another chance. 

“Dean?” The god's expression suddenly turned to one of mild concern and confusion as he looked down. Dean followed his gaze, mentally cursing when he realized that the blood from his arm had soaked through the material of the robe. The white robe. Fucking perfect. 

He slammed his other hand against the back of the door, shutting his eyes reflexively as a blinding white light exploded through the small room. Welp, he definitely got the symbols right. He held his breath as he slowly opened them again, praying against the odds that the sigil would actually work. He felt his heart sink as he took in Castiel's form, completely unruffled by the disturbance. The god's expression was still confused, but it darkened considerably when he realized what Dean had attempted. 

“Cas, listen.” Dean backpedaled, feeling his throat constrict with terror as he took a step back. “I was just-, I wasn't trying to-” 

“That was very foolish, Dean.” Castiel stated icily. All of the kind warmth from earlier was gone. Dean had never seen an expression of such anger and betrayal on his friend's face, and in that moment he knew he had made a huge mistake.

Dean didn't know what to say. Truth be told, he was shocked the god hadn't decided to smite him yet. Judging by the way Castiel was looking at him though, he was sure that was coming soon.

Dean knew that there was no way he could outrun or overpower Castiel now. Even before he had absorbed all of those souls, he was no match for the angel when it came to strength. And now? Not even sigils worked. Castiel was as close to omnipotent as anything Dean had ever seen. It was just his luck he managed to piss him off so quickly.

“...Please, just don't hurt Sam.” Dean whispered, resigned to his fate. He just hoped his brother didn't have to suffer for his stupidity.

“You are not in any position to be making demands of me.” Castiel replied, his hands clenching as the lights in the room began to flicker violently.

“It.. I'm not making a demand. Cas, I'm just asking you. Please don't hurt-”

“Stop.”

Dean felt the words die in his throat as the god spoke, and he choked at the tightening feeling around his neck. He instinctively reached his hands up to grip at his throat, but he couldn't get the sudden pressure around his airway to go away.

“You _will_ learn your place, Dean.” Castiel chided, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Dean had fallen to his knees due to the lack of oxygen and was trying in vain to breathe.

“C-Cas...” He managed to choke out. It was barely a whisper, but he felt the pressure against his airway increase even more. Castiel's expression did not soften at the hunter's distress. If anything, he seemed to grow even more angry.

“When will you _understand_? You belong to me, Dean.” Castiel continued, ignoring the fact that Dean had collapsed completely to ground and was clutching desperately at his neck in a futile attempt to breathe. Castiel took a few steps forward and knelt in front of the hunter, then reached his hand out and ran it through Dean's hair in a surprisingly gentle gesture. “You only continue to exist because I allow it.”

 _So this is it._ Dean thought vaguely to himself as his vision began go blurry and dark around the edges. He was distantly aware of Castiel saying something else as the god continued to stroke his hand through his hair, but he couldn't for the life of him make out what it was. Not that it mattered now. He just hoped his former best friend had enough mercy not to send him back to hell.

Dean wasn't sure at what point he lost consciousness, but when he awoke, it was not in the fancy room Castiel had kept him in before. Cold, damp stone dug dug into his cheek, and the pain caused his eyes to flicker open instinctively.

He sat up slowly and rubbed his face to sooth the burn. Well, he was still alive. This definitely wasn't heaven, and didn't have nearly enough fire and screaming to be hell. A cursory glance around the small cell told him all that he needed to know. At least his former prison had been comfortable. In here, there wasn't even room to lie down without curling up.

“Cas?” He finally called out, desperate for some kind of explanation from the former angel about what was going on. If Castiel decided not to kill him, he wanted to know what he was doing in what was the equivalent of a dog kennel.

“You will not refer to me by that name anymore.”

Dean spun around in shock at the voice, and found himself face-to-face and at an uncomfortable proximity to the angel. Castiel's eyes no longer held the anger and betrayal from earlier, but the cold finality in them was almost worse.

“Huh?” Dean replied, unsure of what Castiel was trying to get at.

“I realize now what my mistake was.” The god muttered to himself, once again acting as though he had forgotten Dean was even in the room with him. “In my attempt to ease you into this gently, I gave you far too much freedom. It confused you.”

“Yeah, I... I'd say I'm pretty confused.” Dean admitted. “I thought you were going to kill me.”

“As did I.” Castiel responded without a hint of remorse. Dean's heart sunk even further. So Castiel really didn't care about him anymore. He was the equivalent of an annoying insect to the god now. Something in the former angel's expression softened minutely at Dean's stricken face, and he quickly added, “Not permanently. Just long enough for you to learn your place. Crowley is running hell for me now, and I'm sure he would have no complaints about disciplining you.”

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean whispered bitterly as he stared at the wall behind the god. He couldn't bring himself to look him in the eye. Not after he just admitted he would have willingly sent him back to hell. “What even made you change your mind?”

“You will refrain from calling me that, Dean.” Castiel chided, a warning in his voice. “In the end, I decided I could not trust Crowley with something as delicate as this. Your training requires much more finesse and direction than anyone but myself could provide for you.”

Dean was incredibly hurt at the way Castiel was talking so casually about disciplining and training him. “So what, I'm your pet now?” He couldn't help but snap, but he regretted it instantly as the former angel's eyes narrowed.

“You and I are not equals, Dean. I realize now that my previous actions may have led you to believe that. Do not expect any more kindness or comfort from me until you have earned it.” Castiel stated firmly. Dean shuddered. If by kindness the god was referring to the way he had forced himself on him, then Dean was glad those days were over.

“...So what do you want me to do?” Dean finally asked when it was clear that Castiel was going to offer no further explanation of his ominous statement.

“I want you to give yourself to me, completely. Body and soul. I own you, yet you still resist. Why?” Castiel seemed genuinely curious, and Dean sure as hell didn't have a good answer.

“I dunno Ca- I mean... Lord or whatever. Maybe if you hadn't gone batshit insane and kidnapped me-”

“I did _not_ kidnap you!” Castiel snapped, and Dean actually whimpered as he felt the air around him thicken and the small light flicker. “You gave yourself to me in exchange for your brother's sanity. Do you forget so quickly? Is this how you show your gratitude to me for saving his life?” ,

“Okay, okay! Geez.” Dean lifted his hands in an attempt to placate the angry god. Castiel still looked steamed, but at least the light had stopped flickering and the air no longer felt so oppressive. “So I gave myself to you. Are you really going to keep me in a fucking closet?”

“You will not be given anything you don't deserve. I spoiled you before. I won't make that mistake again.”

“So... I'm just going to be stuck in here?” Dean looked around at the cold, damp cell. There was nothing in it. No bed, no pillow, no food. Nothing. Not even a toilet. “What about when I have to shower and do.. other stuff.”

“Anything you need, you must ask me for directly. Your entire existence is dependent upon me Dean. I am the pillar of your life. You _will_ learn to see me that way, even if we have to do this the hard way.”

Dean wanted to complain about how unreasonable Castiel was being, but the god decided to pull another vanishing act before he got the chance. He groaned in frustration and tried to find a relatively dry corner to sit down and contemplate his next move.

Sam and Bobby would figure out a way to stop Castiel. Dean had been gone for days now, and there was no way his brother wasn't working on a way to get him back. ...Assuming Castiel hadn't 'punished' Sam yet. He still had no idea what the god had meant by that, and it was a predominant worry in his mind.

He sat there for what felt like ages, yet there was no sign of Castiel. The old light above him flickered occasionally, as though it were about to die, and he shuddered at the thought. This place was creepy enough already, he at least wanted to be able to see. He had his doubts as to whether or not the former angel would bother replacing it if it did decide to kick it. Probably not. Castiel would likely get some kind of sick pleasure out of watching Dean fumble around in the dark.

Eventually he let himself drift off into an uneasy sleep. Despite the circumstances, his body was exhausted. 

When he awoke again, something was different. The god was nowhere in sight, but it was obvious Castiel had been there at some point. In the opposite corner of where Dean was curled in sleep, two bowls had been set. Dean crawled over to examine them, and recoiled in disgust when he realized exactly what was in them and what they symbolized.

One of the dishes contained a small amount of filthy water, the other a bit of what looked a lot like dog food. A quick sniff confirmed his suspicion, it smelled like it too. He was enraged. Castiel was definitely making his meaning clear. At this point, he saw the human as little more than a pet to be rewarded or punished as he saw fit. He was definitely in the punishment stage, being kenneled like an animal who had behaved badly. 

“Cas!” He bellowed, rage filling him and making him forget any semblance of self-preservation. “Get down here you feathery bastard!”

His unrepentant blasphemy seemed to be enough to get the former angel to appear with an expression if distaste and barely contained rage on his face. Dean knew he needed to stop what he was doing right now, but he just couldn’t bring himself to take this kind of degrading treatment from someone he had cared so much about. “What the hell, man?” 

“I told you not to call me by that name, Dean.” Castiel warned, his voice dangerously low. “How many warnings do you think I am going to give you?” 

“I am not eating that.” Dean ignored Castiel’s request and pointed accusingly at the grimy bowls that were situated in the corner. 

“Then starve.” Castiel replied coolly. Dean flinched. Even after everything he had done to him, it still hurt him that his former best friend was so nonchalant about his fate. Dean gulped and tried to calm himself before he spoke again. 

“Cas-um… Castiel.” He amended. “Listen. I know we got off to a bad start…” He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He couldn’t believe he was about ready to apologize and beg for forgiveness from the creature who had treated him so cruelly before. _Raped_ him. He didn’t know what this thing was, but it was not Castiel. If he wanted to get his friend back though, he needed to play the game. “But I’m sorry. I really am. I guess what I did was stupid… I was just scared, ya know?”

He watched Castiel’s face carefully for any hint as to how his words were being received. The former angel narrowed his eyes slightly, as though trying to parse out the truth behind Dean’s words. Eventually, he spoke. 

“I know you’re not really sorry, Dean.” 

Dean felt his heart drop like a lead weight. He supposed it was too much to hope he would be able to fool God. 

“However, just the fact you were willing to admit your faults to me shows progress.” He smiled then, a terrifying thing, and reached a hand out to caress the hunter’s cheek. Dean shuddered but forced himself not to pull away. “I can be merciful.” 

Dean wasn’t sure what to say as Castiel stepped closer, his heart suddenly clenching in fear that there was going to be a repeat of what had happened before. The god seemed to be able to tell what he was thinking though, because he sighed in disappointment and let his hand drop. “I won’t force myself on you, Dean, but you will come to beg me for it. Someday, you will live for my affections.” 

Dean was sure that would never happen, but he didn’t say as much to Castiel. He just forced himself to nod minutely. “Okay, um… Lord, or whatever. Can I please get out of here now?” 

Castiel hesitated for a moment, as though he were debating something, then sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet. Prove to me how sorry you are first.” 

“Prove to you-” Dean was incredulous. What could he possibly do to prove anything to him? He could already read his mind. No, Castiel didn’t want proof of his repentance. He wanted him to submit willingly. That would be the true victory to him. 

Dean wasn’t sure what made him realize that there was only one way to repent for his previous actions in Castiel’s eyes, but he was surprisingly calm about it when he did figure out what exactly the god wanted him to do. He dropped to his knees slowly and reached for the former angel’s belt. Castiel’s empty smile widened. Dean felt sick. He slowly worked off the belt, making sure to maintain eye contact with the god, and slowly slid his slacks down. His arousal was clear through his underwear, hard and throbbing, and Dean barely managed to keep from choking as the full extent of what he was about to do hit him. Still, he couldn’t go back now. 

“That’s it…” Castiel murmured in encouragement, placing a gentle hand on the top of Dean’s head as the hunter hesitantly pulled the last barrier between him and his former friend’s throbbing erection down. 

Dean felt as though he was outside of his body, watching the scene in third person as he opened his mouth and slowly took the long, hard length inch by inch. Castiel moaned low in his throat, and his grip twisted painfully in Dean’s hair. The hunter gagged for a moment, but quickly recovered and began moving his mouth experimentally up and down. He had never done this before, although he would be lying if he said he had never thought about it. It was sloppy, messy and unrefined, but Castiel didn’t seem to mind. 

Dean wondered if Castiel was purposely postponing his orgasm, because by the time his jaw was sore and his lips numb the god still hadn’t come. Occasionally a rush of precome would squirt down Dean’s throat, and as hard as he tried he couldn’t keep himself from reflexively gagging at the salty taste and the unexpectedness of it. 

Castiel did come eventually, and with no warning whatsoever. Dean, getting impatient, was sucking hard and had even lowered a hand from the former angel’s hip to cup at his come-heavy balls in an attempt to speed up the process. The sudden rush of warm liquid that shot down his throat had him choking in earnest, and as hard as he tried to swallow it all, about half of it came back up and splattered onto the floor. Castiel frowned as he watched the mess Dean was making, and Dean knew what he wanted him to do before he even asked. With disgust still rolling in his belly, he leaned down and began to lick Castiel’s semen from the floor. The god smiled. 

When Dean finally managed to get the last of it down without gagging, he looked up at Castiel hopefully. The latter stared at him in contemplation for quite some time, and Dean had to force himself not to prod the god about letting him out. The idea that Castiel would refuse him even now, after the humiliating act he had just performed, was unthinkable. He could still taste the god’s bitter release on his tongue. He deserved this. 

“That’s the problem, Dean.” Castiel narrowed his eyes as he spoke suddenly, and Dean flinched at the disappointment in his voice. “You don’t _deserve_ anything from me.” 

Dean felt his heart sink. Had he just sucked this creature’s cock for nothing? He thought that was the deal. He looked up at Castiel and tried to find something, anything to say to change the god’s mind. “I thought you said you could be merciful.” 

“Oh Dean.” Castiel sighed and shook his head, and he sounded tired and disappointed, as though he was trying to teach some basic concept to a child who just couldn’t grasp it. “I have shown you great mercy. The fact that you are alive is more than you deserve.” 

“So then kill me!” Dean finally snapped. He was getting sick and tired of being jerked around like a damn dog. He would rather die than rot in misery in a cold, damp cell and be used as the occasional, unwilling fucktoy. Castiel frowned at Dean’s words, and if the hunter didn’t know any better he would almost say he looked sad. 

“I don’t want to kill you, Dean.” Castiel replied slowly, as though trying to make sure the stupid human could understand. Dean hated him for it. “I don’t _want_ to hurt you at all.”

“…Then why are you doing this to me?” Dean finally whispered, his voice broken.

“You still don’t understand.” Castiel murmured, and reached a hand out to gently cup the human’s cheek in some mock gesture of comfort. Dean shivered at the touch. “I have found I am… overly attached to you. It is troublesome.”

“Well you sure aren’t acting like it.” Dean mumbled awkwardly as he prayed Castiel would stop touching him.

Castiel ignored him and just continued to stare. The whole situation was making him incredibly uncomfortable. Finally, the god withdrew his hand. Dean breathed out a sigh of relief. “Against my better judgment, I have decided to forgive you for your previous trespasses.” 

“Uh… thanks?” Dean forced. He knew he definitely wasn’t the one who needed forgiveness right now, not after what Castiel had done, but implying as much was tantamount to suicide in this scenario. Of course, trying to hide anything from the new God was a futile endeavor. The thought barely entered his mind before he saw Castiel’s features darken. 

“Do not expect the same freedoms I foolishly gave you before. You have proven yourself untrustworthy and deceitful.”

Dean shuddered at the cold tone in the former angel’s words. He was about to make some smart-ass (and incredibly stupid) retort, but he hesitated. He needed to learn not to provoke the capricious creature before him. He had no idea what kind of “punishment” he would deem necessary next. Instead, he swallowed the last dregs of his pride and nodded. “I’m sorry… my lord.”

Castiel’s look of grim scrutiny suddenly broke into pleased smile. Obviously Dean had said _something_ right. It was probably his disingenuous use of an honorific. The god was definitely on a power trip right now. Castiel seemed to be bolstered by his perceived victory over Dean, and when he spoke it was with gleeful authority. “Tell me then, pet, what do you think you deserve?” 

Dean nearly bit his tongue in half in his effort to refrain from going off on Castiel at his use of the word _pet_. Dean was sure as hell no one’s pet. He momentarily considered throwing a punch at the god, consequences be damned, but he knew that Castiel would not forget or forgive such a slight. He needed to convince the former angel that he was trustworthy again or he would never get a chance to escape. 

Dean looked down at the ground, unable to respond with those piercing blue eyes staring into his own, and replied. “Nothing.” 

“You’re right.” Castiel whispered, and placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. Dean forced himself once more not to jerk back. He kept his eyes on the grimy floor. “You deserve _nothing_ from me.” 

Dean gulped heavily and made himself keep quiet. Castiel may have offered him absolution before, but the whims of this creature were fickle. He was barely able to suppress a full body shudder as the god placed his forefinger beneath Dean’s chin and lightly coaxed Dean’s head up so he was forced to look into those eyes. His chest ached at how much they reminded him of his former friend. He wanted to rip them right out of the god’s head. Castiel chuckled. “You don’t have to pretend to like me, Dean. I can see into your heart.” His voice lowered considerably as he leaned forward to whisper in the hunter’s ear. “You love me.” 

“It isn’t _you_ I love.” Dean shot back reflexively, wincing when he realized what he had just let slip. Castiel didn’t seem angry though, if anything he looked almost pityingly at the hunter. 

“I _am_ the same Castiel you have always known, Dean. The very same that gripped you tight and raised you from perdition all those years ago.” Dean shook his head as the former angel spoke. He wouldn’t believe it, _couldn’t_. Castiel sighed and let his hand roam across the hunter’s cheek. “I sometimes forget how stubborn you humans are. Lesser beings, to be sure.”

Dean remained silent. 

“Someday you will learn your place.” The god pulled the hunter closer to him and pressed his lips softly against his forehead. Dean fumbled weakly for a moment, but the god’s grip was a vice. Eventually he relaxed against the former angel. He was so tired. 

“It’s alright, Dean…” The god murmured against the shell of his ear soothingly. He could almost pretend it was Cas in that moment. His Cas. “I’ll help you.”

He nodded slowly against the soft material of the familiar trench coat as the god stroked his hair. The room around him shifted and changed, and when he opened his eyes again they were standing in the foyer of a beautiful manor, decorated with rich extravagance and gilded halls. Dean closed his eyes again and fisted his hands more tightly in the material of the god’s coat. 

Castiel was whispering something to him now, but he was so tired. He felt soothing hands stroke rhythmically up and down his bare back as warm arms encircled him. He tried to remember why he had been fighting, but he couldn’t put his thoughts together to save his life. He eventually gave up, and let himself doze completely into that warm embrace.


End file.
